Rage
by Binkatong
Summary: I can't think of a blurb that doesn't give away too much. Rated T for violence, suicide, and an insane writer. This is my first attempt at a serious fic, but that doesn't mean the notes will be serious. Please R&R. Will become really sci-fi later.
1. Prologue

Alright, here is my first attempt at a serious Fic. And yet the whole time I was writing this prologue, I couldn't stop laughing. Either I find violence amusing or this serious writing is pushing me to the brink of insanity. -- Now, behold! When kits take it too far!

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own warriors. But I do own any characters that you've never seen in the books. Which may be some of them or all of them. You'll see when I reach the allegiances.**

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My first memory was the most horrible moment in my life.

There I was, pushing a lump of snow with my muzzle into my huge snow pile. My mommy had finally let me play out in the snow behind the nursery, since I was only 2 moons away from apprenticeship. That mound was going to reach all the way to StarClan, and they would all be so impressed that they would make me leader right then and there. Well, that's what I thought then. I now know that they would never recognize me as leader.

Something hit the pile, spraying me with snow. That something was my brother, Beechkit. He was purring like mad, obviously amused at my dazed expression.

"Hey, why did you do dat?" I spat. I was still having problems with my TH's.

"'Cus," he replied. "Why'd ya build it?"

"So," I elongated the so, "I could go up to StarClan and dey would be so imprwessed dat dey would make me weader!"

"Fowrget it," he mewled.

"Why?" I asked.

"'Cus I'm ganna be weader!" He retorted, batting me in the ear.

"No way," I batted him back. He pounced on me, and our conversation turned into a friendly squabble over who would be the better leader. I managed to get my feet into his belly and push him off me, sending him tumbling back a few feet. He stood up and shook off the snow.

"Awright, I'm ganna get you fowr that!" He sprung again. This time, it was a real furry of paws and fur. It was like a real fight, only with sheathed claws. Usually when we did this, mommy stopped us. But mommy wasn't here. Of course, a cat can't keep his claws sheathed in the heat of battle.

His claws shot out of the covers, digging into my side. "Owowowow!!"

This had gone too far. Beechkit had realized it too, because he instantly sprung off of me with a worried look on his face.

I was quivering in fear, which was a new sensation to me. Sure, I was a little scared when that big RiverClan cat came into camp, or during that snowstorm. But never like this. The muscle that he had dug into was throbbing, and so was my heart. I slowly glanced down at my sticky, bloodstained side. I had never seen blood up close before. Beechkit got a cut once, but I never got to get a good look at it. Which made the sight of my blood drizzling down my flank all the more frightening.

Something from the back of my mind was digging into my current thoughts of fear. Something I didn't recognize at the time. I now know the words. Anger. Hatred. Bloodlust. A fog of red clouded my vision. All I could see was Beechkit, cowering in fear of my strange behavior. Unable to control my actions, my unsheathed claws rose. Something was piercing the wall of red that enveloped my sight. It took me a moment to realize that they were my own claws, shining brighter that a StarClan warrior. But by then, my claws were already half way to ripping his neck in two. I used every ounce of energy in my body to try and stop, but the rage refused to give in to my willpower. Before I knew it, it was too late.

Beechkit was gone.

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-sniffles and laughs at the same time- Wow, I am going insane! So, tune in next time for the next exciting chapter of Rage!

**UP NEXT: Allegiances!**


	2. Allegiances

Well, I've decided to make up all the cats. It makes it all easier. I'll add cats as they appear in the story.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own warriors. Or the names of the clans. But I do own these cats. Yeah...**

EDIT: I forgot the Med. cat and his apprentice.

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ThunderClan

Leader: Slatestar- Gray tom with white streaks and strange blue-violet eyes.

Deputy: Fogwing- slim gray she-cat. (Apprentice Sparrowpaw)

Med. Cat: Thrushberry- Light brown tabby she-cat. (Apprentice Honeypaw)

Warriors:

Gorsefoot- Dark brown tom. (Apprentice Cloudpaw)

Adderfang- Large toothed light brown she-cat with darker brown streaks. (Apprentice Swiftpaw)

Rabbitnose- White tom renowned for his sense of smell. (Apprentice Rootpaw)

Speckledsky- A beautiful golden brown speckled she-cat. Sparrowpaw's mother.

Owlsong- Brown speckled tom with dark eyes. (Apprentice Pebblepaw)

Palefur- Off-white tom.

Whitefoot- Black tom with white underbelly and feet.

Sandpelt- Sandy brown tabby she-cat.

Otterheart- Sleek, well groomed dark tabby tom.

Apprentices:

Swiftpaw- White, wirey she-cat.

Silverpaw- Pure siver she-cat with green eyes. (Main Character!)

Cloudpaw- Long haired white tom.

Honeypaw- Golden longhaired she-cat.

Pebblepaw- Gray tom with a short tail.

Rootpaw- Brown tabby tom with blue eyes and a short temper.

Queens:

Stoneflower: Meek gray tabby she-cat.

Brackenmist: Mysterious brown tabby she-cat with strange gray eyes. Some believe she can see the future and has a connection with StarClan as strong as any medicine cat.

Elders:

Faddedpelt- A dull colored gray tom. Oldest cat in Thunderclan.

ShadowClan

Leader: Hawkstar- Spotted brown tom with amber eyes.

RiverClan

Leader: Minnowstar- Small blue she-cat.

WindClan

Leader: Breezestar- Thin tan tom.


	3. Make Us Proud

Here it is! Chapter 1 of Rage. I wonder if anyone is even reading this... If you are, just leave a review proving it. Time for the disclaimer!

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN WARRIORS. I DON'T OWN THESE CHARACTERS. TODAY IS OPPOSITE DAY.**

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"Thanks, Silverpaw," Faddedpelt's voice creaked with old age as I placed the wet moss between his paws. "When I was a warrior, the apprentices weren't nearly as responsible."

"My pleasure," I meowed, patting the dull pelted elder with my tail respectfully. "Anything to help the clan." I turned around and walked off to find Fogwing, but he caught my attention with a loud purr.

"So, how's it going with you and Pebblepaw?" he asked.

I whirled around. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he purred. "I've seen the way you look at him." He looked up at Silverpelt, thinking of the days when he was an apprentice. "Ahh, young love. When I was your age, I had a bit of a crush of Bluepaw. Soon it turned to love, and we had kits. Those were the days."

"I do not have a crush of Pebblepaw," I mewed, trying to continue to sound respectful. "He's just a friend."

He flicked his tail, gesturing me to come closer. His voice lowered to a whisper. "Word of advice. Bluepaw and I were just friends at first. But sometimes friends can become more than just friends. And don't be afraid of when they do."

I sighed, and turned around for the exit. When I reached it, I turned around and glanced at Faddedpelt one more time. He smiled confidently and flicked his tail, gesturing me to go about my business. I fallowed his directions and slipped out of the den.

The camp was bustling with activity. It was sunhigh, and most cats were sharing tongues or eating fresh-kill. Fogwing was laying in the sun with Gorsefoot, sharing news and a rabbit. Fogwing spotted me, said something to Gorsefoot, and came over to me.

"Well, are you ready to go on your first unsupervised hunt?" she asked. If I wasn't the kind of cat who couldn't contain her feelings, I would be bouncing around camp in excitement. But I wasn't, so I stood still.

"Yes," I mewed calmly. I was sure she couldn't hear any excitement in my voice, but she could certainly see it in my eyes. My mother, Speckledsky, always said that the eyes were the gateway to the heart. By looking into a cat's eyes, you could read their true emotions. Fogwing was one of those cats that did that a lot.

"Well, look who's excited. Go out there and make ThunderClan proud." Then she added, "Although I don't think you could make them any prouder than they already are."

It only appears that what she said was true. If they knew what I did, they would never be proud. They would know a fox wasn't the one who killed my brother. They'll know it was me. The only thing I could do is be twice the warrior anyone else is. To make up for ThunderClan's loss.

I nodded, and scampered for the gorse tunnel. But something Owlsong said to Whitefoot stopped me in my tracks.

"Did you hear about last night's raid on WindClan?"

"Yeah, I heard 3 cats died," Whitefoot replied.

"If this war goes on, WindClan could be wiped out for good."

Hawkstar.

Hawkstar, the leader of ShadowClan, the one who declared war on WindClan, the one who broke the warrior code of a daily basis. He was behind all this. Even though he had lost all buy one of his nine lives, he was still as hostile as ever. Every non-ShadowClan cat hated him with all their heart, but he refused to give up. I sighed and continued to pad along.

**O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O**

I dropped the squirrel on top of the three mice and covered the pray with dirt. The rancid stench of the Thunderpath filled the air, which must have been only about 10 foxlengths away. I turned around and sniffed the air, trying to locate any sign of fresh kill this close to the Twoleg monsters. Mouse.

I dropped down into a hunting crouch and shimmied closer. The wind was still that day, making it impossible to be downwind. I was close enough to see its chest rising and falling as it nibbled on a grass seed. It was a plump one. Most cats would imagine eating it, but I thought of giving it to Fogwing and seeing her face light up with accomplishment and gratitude of me letting her have my prize. I leaned back and prepared to pounce.

Suddenly, a brown shape whizzed by my nose, startling me and making me jump back. At first I was worried that I scared the mouse, but I realized that I didn't have to worry about that. The mouse was dead. Not only that, but in the jaws of the thing that just jumped in front of me.

Hawkstar.


	4. Hawkstar

I stink at writing action scenes. -- This scene is a whole new level of violent for me. Now I'm scared of my own character. -shivers-

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own warriors, and I never will. Or will I...**

**CLAIMER: I made up all these characters.**

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"Hawkstar!" I gasped, stumbling back a few paces. The ShadowClan tom glared at me with such hostility that I thought his stare would burn right through me. I slunk back with fear and shivered like a freezing kit. He could kill me in one swipe of his claw. He wasn't named "Hawktalon" as a warrior for nothing. I wasn't ready to die.

Or maybe I was.

It couldn't be any worse than the grief I felt living. I didn't even deserve to live this long. I could see Beechkit again, and maybe he would even forgive me. I realized that was impossible. StarClan wouldn't even accept me, never less forgive me. The Place of No Stars wouldn't be so bad. I would be with my kind-- vicious, bloodthirsty monsters. I stood up straight, ready to face my demise.

"What are you doing on ThunderClan territory?" I challenged.

"Hunting, isn't it obvious?" he smirked. "Now excuse me, I have so more hunting to do."

"Over my dead body!" I hissed. He smiled, impressed at my bravery.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that," he grunted. He held his paw to my face and unsheathed his feared claws. I didn't flinch. This was it.

A sharp pain ran down my nose. I could feel the blood sinking into the fur on my snout. I could see the blood spurting from the slit. Then something, like a long lost memory, came back. My sharp, fast breathing became slow and rasping. The red from the blood seemed to lap over my vision like a certain of scarlet. It was happening all over again. The same sensation as when I killed Beechkit.

Hawkstar blinked in surprise, but soon came to his senses and lunged. He pinned down all four of my legs and opened his mouth, ready to bite me in the neck, but something happened. With a sudden burst of strength that I never knew I possessed, I managed to pull a paw free. Then I saw the claws.

I remembered last time that my claws had been silver, but I thought that claws just showed through the scarlet. But I saw his claws looked like everything else; perfectly red. My claws, on the other hand, shown through with an unnatural tone of silver that I had never imagined. They reminded me of crescent moons. Dangerously sharp, long, and glowing with a hoary radiance that illuminate the world in a dark, eerie fashion. My claws were supposed to be dull, short and white like a normal apprentice's claw. Even Hawkstar's claws looked like stumps in comparison.

All I wanted was to get out of there, return my claws to their regular form, and report this to Slatestar. But my claws wanted to do something else. Kill.

They slowly ripped down his underbelly, elongating the agony for both him and me. I yanked my claws out, splattering blood over both our pelts. He yowled and jolted backwards, eyes filled with fear and pain. I leaped onto him and pined him down just like he pinned me. Some invisible force yanked open my jaw, and pushed my head down to bite his neck. _Oh StarClan, please don't let me kill this cat, _I prayed, and it was answered quickly.

After the unnatural amount of damage I was somehow able to do to him, I forgot that I was merely an apprentice, and not a very strong one at that, and he was a full fledged muscular leader with a hundred times the experience. He easily flung me of and scrambled up to his feet. I, by performing twisting and turning motions beyond my control, somehow managed to land with all four paws planted firmly on the ground a fox length away. He must have gotten used to my abnormal fighting abilities, because he didn't react. He only sprung at me again. I was quick, but I wasn't quick enough to dodge this strike. His claws raked down my flank, and blood dripped down my side. I yowled in pain. No, yowl is an understatement. I flung up onto my hind legs and roared a roar worthy of a LionClan warrior. The pain quickly drained and the roar became of pure hatred. When I ceased, Hawkstar was shaking with terror. I lunged at him, starving for revenge, but he bolted off into the woods before I could land a claw on him.

I couldn't track him. The stench of the blood on my face was too overpowering. The fact that he was gone was driving me crazy, even though it would usually be a relief. I began to yowl and flail around, but it soon turned to me sprawled on my back, twitching like mad. I wanted to kill… I needed to kill… If I didn't kill soon, the anger would kill me.

Then I saw it—a squirrel in a tree. It wasn't much, but there was blood running in that creature's veins. I longed to change that. But how? It was on one of the tallest braches of the tree. I couldn't even climb that high! But, unable to control myself, I jumped.

Next thing I knew, I was at least fifteen fox lengths off the ground, about to drive my claw through the terrified animals chest. What was going on? How did I get so high? Confusion sparked in the midst of the bloodlust, making me nearly falter for a moment. But the claws struck anyway, skewering the rodent. I plummeted to the ground, and hit the ground unshaken in a way that should have broken my legs.

A trickle of squirrel blood trickled down my claw, but it wasn't enough. I ripped my claws from the carcass, and a little more blood spurted out, but it wasn't enough. More blood had to be spilled.

I began to maul the body, ripping pieces of flesh right off the skeleton. The blood began to form a pool, but I wasn't done. I made sure every vein in its tiny body was shredded, every drop of blood drained. Then a miracle ensued—I calmed down.

The blood on the ground seemed to absorb my emotions, leaving me completely dazed. The red glow faded from my vision. I stared at the mush of flesh and blood. I looked at my bloodstained claws. They were short and dully color, just how they were before I went insane.

I did that. I nearly killed Hawkstar. I completely destroyed this squirrel. I broke the warrior code by hunting for sport. And I didn't even know how I did it. My head hung low, and tears began to stream down my eyes.

I didn't deserve to live.

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Just so you know, there is a perfectly logical reason that she's this powerful. You'll learn that later. And after writing this chapter, I kind of have to add some suicide. Anyway, tune in next time!


	5. Mauled

It's time for the really stupid sounding Prophecy! I gives away some of the future Sci-fi. I hope it's not to easy to decipher.

**DISCLAIMER: I can't think of any fun way to say this, so let's just say I have no rights to warriors at all but I own the characters.**

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Thrushberry padded through the undergrowth as the sun slowly crept down the sky. It would be sundown soon. She had the undeniable feeling that something important was about to happen. The air was still, the birds silent; it was as if the whole forest was holding its breath. The only sound came from the crackle of old leaves and twigs under paw. A monster roared by on the Thunderpath into the distance, but no more followed it.

Then she smelled it. Over the reek of the Thunderpath, she could make out a whiff of the familiar scent. She tasted the air, and she was sure of what it was.

Cat blood.

She tore through the forest, following the stench of blood. As she came closer, she scented ThunderClan and ShadowClan mixed in with the blood. There must have been a fight. Then she spotted something strange. On a crumpled brown leaf was a drop of crimson liquid, basked in a strange silver light. It was an Oman from StarClan. She felt a presence next to her, whispering into her ear.

_Silver claws in the moon's hot fire,_

_Metal basks in the full moons glow._

_He brings Silver its true hearts desire,_

_Knowledge that only True Blood knows._

_The Manmade cat will give up his life,_

_To save his child from rage and bloodlust._

_But to truly save herself from her strife,_

_She must give up the past and gain her own trust._

_The Predator vanquished at the claws of the Pray,_

_An ally of Shadows will rise from the stream._

_The Silvery savior must see foul play,_

_Or Wind will be not but a long-lost dream._

She looked to the side, but whoever was next to her was gone. She shook her head. Whatever this prophecy meant, she could tell it was not good. Metal? Manmade? She needed to talk to Slatestar about this. But that drop was not the only blood that had been spilled there. A few fox-lengths away was a pool of blood that smelled of ThunderClan, ShadowClan, and squirrel. There were two trails leading off of the pool- One lead off to the Thunderpath and one lead off to the camp. Whoever it was, there was a badly injured cat at camp. And she wasn't there to heal him.

She bolted off into the woods, following the trail of fresh blood. She prayed to StarClan that the cat wasn't dead, and that Honeypaw had it under control. She was half way to camp now. _Oh, just hold in there, _she pleaded silently, although she couldn't tell if he was still alive or not. Then she tripped on something. That something was me.

I was a mess. My flank was ripped to shreds and was bleeding like crazy. My muzzle was scarlet from the blood streaming from my nose. Hardly breathing with almost no blood left in my body, I should have been dead. I was hanging in there- I was unconscious, but hanging in there.

Thrushberry somehow managed to hull me to camp. She dropped my limp body on a moss bed in the Medicine cat den. She began to treat me immediately, using cobwebs to stop the bleeding.

Soon the news of my injuries had spread around camp, and cats crowded around the entrance to the den, trying to see for themselves. After I had stopped bleeding, Thrushberry let a few cats in. Fogwing, my mentor, Speckledsky, my mom, Cloudpaw and Pebblepaw, my closet friends, and Gorsefoot, my father, were let in. The warriors had to leave for a patrol, but my apprentice friends stayed. They slept with me that night.

All the while, Thrushberry was worried. Not only about me, but about the prophecy. She knew it couldn't be good. It was one of the most mysterious prophecies she has received as a medicine cat, and she just couldn't figure it out. But she knew that StarClan would expose the meaning eventually, and then she would find out.

She really wished she didn't have to.

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Ah! No! Silverpaw! I can't believe I just did that to her. -sulks- Anyway, stay tuned for the next chapter!


End file.
